


The Mighty Hammer

by ALittleBitofThis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bondage, Comfort, Cutting, Electrocution, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Iron Dad, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleBitofThis/pseuds/ALittleBitofThis
Summary: It was supposed to just be a little mission. Something to give Peter some experience. Tony didn’t expect Justin Hammer would be there. And he sure as hell didn’t expect the man to use Peter to get to him. Mostly whump with some recovery/fluff at the end.





	The Mighty Hammer

**Author's Note:**

> Literally, I just wanted to beat Peter up, so I wrote this whump in spurts over the course of a few weeks. Yes, I’m a terrible person, but enjoy the whump!

“Okay, kid. This shouldn’t be anything major. Maybe just some druggies or arms dealers. Just watch yourself.”

“Got it, Mr.Stark!” Peter chirped. Tony smiled slightly at the enthusiasm in the hero’s voice as he gently set Spider-Man down from their flight.

“I’m going to go make a loud entrance at the front, and you just slip in and get the jump on them.” Iron Man flew towards the door and, being the extra mf he is, blew the door off its hinges. He landed, hand blasters at the ready, but there was no large group of peeps awaiting him. Just one man. His heart stopped.

“Holy shit,” Tony froze, staring at his old nemesis. When the fuck did Justin Hammer get out of jail?! The man looked up at him with a cool, casual smile that any normal person would mistake for friendliness. The same smile he’d used with Pepper all those years ago. Tony wanted nothing more than to punch the smug look right off his face.

“MR. STARK LOOK OUT!!” Tony barely even heard the voice screaming at him before his systems cut out. Everything went black, and he couldn’t move. His HUD, Friday, moveability… none of it was working. Even his respirator was off. Tony only knew he was awake because of the muffled sounds he heard around him.

“Friday, reboot,” Tony moved his fingers in the right order to send the emergency restart signal. His systems started to light up, and he got a glimpse of Spider-Man fighting someone, but then, the suit shut off again.  _What the hell?!_  He tried again, to no avail. Finally, someone pulled the mechanical release button on the side of his helmet, and his mask popped off.

“Ahh, there we are,” Justin cooed. He beamed at the trapped Avenger in front of him, who consistently attempted to reboot his suit.

“What did you do to me?” Stark snarled. He struggled to move the suit even an inch, but it wouldn’t give.

“Oh, that?” Justin tilted his head for a moment. “We just hooked a little invention of mine to the back of your suit. It sends out powerful EMP pulses every two seconds, so good luck getting your suit into gear.” Tony’s stomach did a backflip. If the device threw the suit into shock that often, he’d never be able to keep the suit power up long enough to get it off. Peter had to do it for him. Grateful he decided to bring him along, Tony looked past Justin to find the teenager.

Spider-Man parried with another man, dodging a punch and lashing out to kick him in the stomach. The young man stumbled back and pulled out a gun, but a web shooter pulled it out of his hand and webbed it to the floor.

“Hey!” Justin sighed and whispered to Tony to give him a moment.  A second web grabbed his partner’s shirt and slingshotted the man towards Peter so that the kid could launch him back the other way with a double-footed kick. He slid to a stop several feet away. Annoyed, Justin pulled out his own glock and held it inches from Tony’s face.

“Hey, red dude!” Spider-Man glanced over to them and stilled.  _Oh no…_

“Mr.Stark?” Peter asked quietly through the comms. His eyes flickered around the space, searching for beams or boxes or anything he could use to improvise a weapon. He couldn’t let Tony die.

“Tony Stark’s system is offline,” Karen reported. Spider-Man sagged. He’d seen enough movies to know the drill; if he moved, this guy would probably blow Tony’s face off.

“Don’t move,” Justin ordered. The younger man had recovered and went to talk to Hammer. Tony strained to hear their hushed tones as they conversed, but all he picked up was “witness”, “pain”, “itching”, “please”, and “stands”. The young man disappeared, and a few moments later a loud  _clang_  echoed through the workshop. Their whispers were quiet enough to evade even Spider-Man’s hearing, and Peter tapped his toe inside his boot anxiously, the pillars reminding him too much of another warehouse he’d been in.

Their location itself was some sort of old storage space that these perps turned into a workshop. Tools and scraps lay scattered around haphazardly. Peter’s already-nervous heartbeat accelerated as the man wheeled out a weird looking cart. Spider-Man said nothing, but Hammer easily read the nervous shift in Tony’s body language as the man calculated the probable outcomes.

“Remember when I had our old friend Ivan make up some armor?” Justin Hammer’s eyes shone with a mischievous glint as he spoke with his old rival. “We found some of the old armor and armor stands from that. I doubt that clown is stronger than the armor, right?” Tony’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t let Peter get hurt because of him.

“Step on up,” The young man ordered. Spider-Man turned his head towards Tony questioningly. Should he…? Tony shook his head, trying to signal Peter not to fucking listen, but Justin shoved the barrel of the gun against his temple, causing Tony to instinctively lean away from it.

“Do as he says, man,” Justin said. Spider-Man tentatively stepped onto the armor stand, heart hammering at his chest. It more or less looked like an oversized door frame- only it was made of steel and had cable ties attached. Peter knew this was a horrid idea. He was putting himself into a dangerous situation, but he had no other ideas at the moment, and anything they did to him couldn’t be worse than Tony getting shot in the head, right? He thought back to all the movies he’d watched where this happened. Normally the heroes found their way out somehow...

Peter flinched when he felt the hand on his arm, but managed to stifle the reflex at Justin’s pointed look. Spider-Man struggled not to fight back as his wrists were attached to the fasteners that normally would have supported heavy sets of metal armor.

“Samuel. Go grab some of those steel cables, just in case,” Justin instructed. Sam nodded and shuffled off to find the given supplies.

Within a few minutes, Peter’s wrists were bound tightly to the sides of the frame, wrapped around with steel wire several times. His ankles mirrored the position. His hands were both higher up than his head- almost spread-eagle, leaving the boy entirely exposed. Peter noted that while he could still launch his web shooters, they would just hit the ceiling. With a sigh of relief, Justin lowered the gun.

“Man, my arm was starting to get tired,” Hammer chuckled as he tucked the gun away. He looked between Iron Man and Spider-Man. “Let’s see who you brought us, Tony.”

Peter subtly tested the restraints as the pretentious dude approached him and grabbed the top of his mask.  _Absolutely not._  His teeth grabbed the inside of the mask to keep it down, but Hammer pulled it off anyway to reveal the juvenile face. Peter clenched his eyes shut so tightly they hurt, denying this man anything he could.

“Aww. Tony! When did you have a kid? Did one of those reporters come back with an illegitimate child for you?!” Justin teased. He placed a hand on the spider logo, but Peter pointedly stayed stock still instead of leaning away like the man probably wanted. Justin didn’t relent. He brushed his fingers around the logo and squeezed, wondering if it would break like an arc reactor.

Peter meant to keep his eyes shut- he really did- but curiosity and concern for Droney took over, and before he could stop it, he craned his neck uncomfortably to look down at his chest. Dark, calloused brown eyes met bright, youthful ones. Hammer paused, fingers still pressing against his chest in a way that made Tony’s skin crawl.

“What’s your name? Spider-kid?” Justin asked, his head cocking to the side.

“Spider- _Man_ ,” Peter corrected. Justin let out a choked laugh.

“‘Man’? You look 12!” Samuel chuckled. Peter’s face turned scarlet red.

“ _16_ ,” Peter snarled, shifting in his restraints. Tony cleared his throat.

“Hey! Justin, your beef is with me, not with him.” Justin turned back at the sound of Tony’s voice and smirked. The billionaire, as brilliant as he was, really needed to work on his poker face. Worry shone like daylight in his eyes. Sure, this hadn’t been the original plan, but Hammer’s new plan was oh, so much better.

“You’re right. Originally, I was just going to kill  _you_. But then, you brought this little witness along with you, so now I gotta figure out something to do with him as well. Your fault, T-man,” Justin tutted as he walked back to Tony and stood real close.

“So let him go and we’ll keep this between us,” Tony bargained. He stared past the man, meeting the gaze of his kid. Peter’s face could be mistaken as brave, but Tony understood that the forced expression harbored anxiety under the surface.

“See, I did think about that, but when you die, I can’t trust him to stay quiet,” Justin whispered. Tony’s chest tightened in understanding; Justin wouldn’t let Peter walk away unscathed. “And then, my Sammy over there mentioned he’s been a bit peckish now that’s he’s no longer enforcer for a prison gang. And y’know… he’s been such a good boy about helping me trap you, so I’m going to let him have some fun with your boy there.” Tony’s eyes bulged.

“Justin Hammer, if you so much as lay a finger on him-“ Tony threw himself against his armor so hard that it probably left a bruise. Justin didn’t even flinch.

“Hey now,” Justin threw his hands up in surrender. “ _I’m_  not going to do anything.” On cue, Samuel punched the boy in the stomach. Peter gasped. It wasn’t that the punch  _hurt_  per say, but it caught him off guard, and he just- two more punches followed, whipping his head in either direction. Tony’s heart dropped.  _No._

“Got a knife?” Sam asked Justin. He stared at Peter hungrily, like a starving lion on the hunt, and Spider-Man didn’t miss the way Sam bit his lip as he reached out to feel his target’s face. The preyed giraffe took the high ground, glaring down at him with more vigor than Tony knew he even possessed.

“Probably. I’ll help you go round up some toys,” Justin said. Peter raised his eyebrows.

“Hey, I know I look young, but you really don’t need to go to Toys-R-Us for me,” Peter quipped. Ignoring him, Justin grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and disappeared around a corner. When they were gone, Peter dropped the facade.

“Peter,” Tony said urgently. “You need to get out of here. Now.” Peter, now sporting a lovely split lip, yanked his right hand towards him, but the cable refused to yield. He tried again with his foot, but the same result. After leaning to the right, Spider-Man threw himself left. praying his sheer momentum would break it. Nope.

“Can’t! I feel like Jack in the Titanic” Spider-Man hissed, pulling at the bindings. Considering that these cables could pull 18-wheelers out of free-fall, both heroes knew even an enhanced, teenage hero was a laughable offense, but it didn’t stop Peter from trying.

“Interesting analogy, Jack. But I’m not about to come over there and kiss you,” Tony forced a smile at Peter, who made a fake pout at the words. His ears picked up the two men returned with a box of things, so Spider-Man stopped moving..

“What do you want to start with?” Justin spoke quietly, but not enough that Peter couldn’t hear.

“Crowbar is usually a good start,” Samuel replied, plucking it out of the box. Peter readied himself, but still couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped when it smacked into his stomach. It started off slowly, but soon, a constant barrage of hits rained down on Spider-Man’s torso. A hit to the spine caused him to arch forward, only for Samuel to circle him and land a blow to the ribs.

Peter bit his lip painfully, denying the sounds that he knew he man searched for. He shifted away from the throbbing ache wherever the harsh metal hit, but moving any one direction just caused pain in another. The boy instinctively tried to curl in on himself, but the restraints held him exposed. A cry of pain threatened to escape, but Peter stubbornly morphed it into a word.

“Hey,” Peter managed, and Sam stopped in surprise. Rarely had anyone tried to actually speak while he beat the shit out of them. Most men didn’t have the guts. “Why aren’t you running?” Sam cocked his head at the question.

“ _What?_ ”

“Well, y’know… you got a crowbar. And I’m- Agh- I’m strung up like a scarecrow, so I should be scaring the crows away, right? Get it? You’re a crow?” Peter grimaced. It took a lot of energy to get the words out, but it bought valuable recovery time that his body was screaming for.

He looked across the gap at Tony, hoping for some bout of reassurance that he was doing the right thing, but all he received was a look of worry.  _Stop talking, kid. PLEASE, stop talking._

“I’m not afraid of a 10-year-old,” Sam scoffed. He raised the crowbar above his head and swung with both hands this time. Peter cried out in pain as it impacted his ribs, and the crack of broken bones resonated across the room. At the edges of his vision, he spotted Tony fighting against his armor again. Peter quivered, fighting back tears from the pain.

“Y’know, I always enjoy the talkers, so I’ll give you a bonus,” Sam mused. Peter’s face whipped to the side as the crowbar smacked him in the face. When he turned back, Samuel had moved out of his sight, and Peter strained his neck to try and see him. It was like a horror movie. Things got scarier when you  _didn’t_  know where they were. Peter’s heart beat against his chest, struggling to keep up with the blood racing through his veins. He clenched his eyes shut and listened hard, feeling for the vibration of the steps around him. Spider-Man heard the gentle clinck as the weapon set down. Was that it? Kinda shorter torture than the movies show... Peter heard more rustling. Something touched his neck.

Peter yelped as the electricity surged through him. It stung everywhere like a thousand giant needles. Like a swarm of bees pinned him down and crushed him under their combined weight. The ropes went taught as Spider-Man strained against them, trying to escape the searing pain running through his body. Samuel pulled away, and Peter breathed out gratefully, but it resumed a few seconds later. Sam was relentless, stopping just long enough for Peter to think he was done before he hit him again. And again. And again. Peter’s steely constitution abandoned his body, leaving pain and fear as the prevailing thoughts.

Peter had no clue how much time had really passed when Sam finally stopped. His vision swirled, and distantly, the boy felt his limbs twitching with aftershocks. Peter tasted the iron of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue. Spider-Man dragged his eyes open, and Sam stood in front of him, vision raking the quivering body.

The sadist grinned at the way his stomach heaved with labored breaths. At the way he pulled feebly at the restraints. At the way the defiant hero tried and failed to force the pained expression off his face to make way for a mask of humor and indifference. Despite trying to deny the man the satisfaction of noises of pain, Peter hated the tense silence. He knew he shouldn’t be giving up this easily, but his whole body  _hurt_ , and glistening eyes met Tony’s, who radiated concern and helplessness.  _Play it sauve, like Tony would._

“I think you would get along well with Thor,” Peter managed, although it came out a little. Justin raised his eyebrows, and Spider-Man flinched when the taser hovered near his stomach. The corner of Sam’s lip turned upwards.

“Justin!” Tony spoke up. “What the fuck are you doing?!” Justin sighed and pushed off his spot against the wall.

“Come on, don’t make me monologue, Stark,” Justin huffed. Tony looked at the quivering kid across from him. He had to buy him time for a break.

“Try me. I enjoy them,” Tony challenged. Justin waved a hand dismissively.

“Fine...You see, Tony. I spent the last 8 years in jail. I got beaten, starved, humiliated, and a whole lot of other things in there. But you know what got me through? The idea that one day, I’d get you back. That I’d be able to make you feel the same pain you inflicted on me.”

“You did that to yourself. And that has nothing to do with him,” Tony argued. He could barely breathe whenever he saw the way that Peter tensed, trying to put distance between him and the wicked device. Samuel followed his movements, not ever pushing the prongs against him, but rather teasing him with light brushes. Peter held back a whimper. Any man with brains would be right to be scared.

“Seeing him in pain obviously hurts you, so it kinda does have to do with him. Although I will admit, this is surprisingly anticlimactic,” Justin commented. Sam shoved the taser against Peter’s stomach in a way the boy couldn’t escape. Tony bit his lip. He wanted to shout out- to scream at both of them- but anything he said could be used against Peter, so he held it back.

“He’s just being difficult. I’ll kick it up a notch,” Sam shrugged. Peter shuddered, feeling the phantom pain before it even turned on. When Samuel flipped the switch, a choked sob fell out of him. Tony’s blood ran cold, but Sam just grinned.

“Hold this,” Sam made sure the taser stayed in contact as he pushed the handle into Justin’s hand and walked off. A high-pitched whine escaped from Peter as he was held there. Tears slipped down his face while the pins and needles surrounded him, and an eternity later, they switched the taser off, and Peter groaned in relief as his body sagged in the restraints. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears out of his swirling vision.

“Time to leave my mark,” A hand grasped the fabric on his stomach and tried to pull up, but the men found that the suit was all connected. Sam snarled and pressed the knife to his waist. The armor wasn’t cut so easily. Peter tightened his core, attempting to hide his heavy breathing as Samuel pulled at the suit.

“How do you get this off?” He demanded.

“You can’t just take it off. That’s high-grade Kevlar. It won’t tear,” Tony chimed. Sam glanced back at him.

“Challenge accepted,” Sam drove the knife against Spider-Man’s waist, and Peter prepared for the impalement, but the suit held steady. A hand on his hip held him still so Sam could saw away at the suit- to no avail. He grumbled in frustrated and moved to his neckline. Peter winced when the knife slipped under his collar and pierced the skin.

Peter felt like he should quip some sort of funny comeback, but as Sam wedged it deeper, the pain silenced him. When blood from Peter’s neck oozed onto Sam’s hand, the man slowed to a stop. Peter should’ve been relieved, but something in his stomach flipped when he spotted the crazed glint in Sam’s eyes. He’d never seen that look in a man before. It terrified him, but he couldn’t look away. Samuel stared him down as he slowly licked the blood off his hand.

“Mmm,” Sam reached out, brushing the wetness onto his cheekbone and catching a stray tear. Peter felt the bile rise in his throat. The touch was too nice, too gentle.

“The suit might be electrically sewn,” Justin suggested. “Might have to shock or burn it off.”

“It was on the second lowest setting before. The highest one might override the suit.” Peter felt sick as Sam pulled away from him. That was a  _low_  setting?!  No! Absolutely not. Time to get the heck out of here. Spider-Man hurled himself against the wire, trying to escape, but there was nowhere to go. A calloused hand grabbed his neck, stopping the thrashing teenager in his tracks.

“No,” Peter gasped. Sam smirked devilishly and stepped real close to him. Peter could feel the hot breath hitting his neck as he jerked around.

“Aw, was that a “no”? At least we’re on speaking terms now,” Sam held the remote in front of his face as he twisted the power dial up to full. Each successive click caused Peter’s breath to hitch. Sam released his neck and pressed the taser into his shoulder.

The accompanying shriek was a gross, inhuman sound that should never come out of a child. It reverberated around the room, rattling Tony’s skull painfully. The pain was so, so much worse. Peter’s bones were on fire, and he felt the electrons in every single molecule screaming. His body tried to go everywhere and nowhere all at once as the muscles constricted violently. Everything hurt and stung and vibrated.

Sam paused so the kid wouldn’t black out. Tears streamed freely, and Peter barely had time to inhale before Sam electrocuted him again. Peter howled as it tore through his body. After the third round, Peter shook his head desperately.

“No,” He pleaded, trying to get words to form. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Sam eyed him, and decided to give the boy a little help. A large hand wrapped around his throat. Peter’s oxygen supply shrunk as the man squeezed his fingers. Black spots swarmed in his vision, but right before his eyes closed, Sam let go. Peter heaved in air, trying to make up for lost time before the hand came back again.

The hand nefariously choked him, but always released him before he passed out. The waves threatened to drown him, and honestly, Peter’s shoulders trembled as he wished he could just black out to escape the endless loop. On one iteration, Sam dug his thumb into the cut he’d left on Peter’s throat, and the boy whimpered in pain. He pushed his thumb deeper, causing Peter to cry out weakly. Sam pulled away for real this time.

“How do you get the suit off?” He demanded. Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. He couldn’t speak, but he didn’t want to either. His face felt wet and sticky with blood, sweat, and tears. t wasn’t just the torture that made him cry, but the fact that he was giving in. He could feel himself giving in. A hand caressing his throat sent waves of panic through him.

“I… I can’t… can’t tell,” Peter rasped, regretting the words even before they left his lips. A punch to the stomach forced the remaining air out of him.

“Stop!” Tony cried, unable to meet Peter’s pleading eyes. “Justin! This is insane. He’s 16!  _Please!_ ” Justin spun around to face Stark and smirked. He held up a hand to signal Sam to stop.

“Why? Is this bothering you?” He teased. Tony glared daggers at him. “That’s kinda the point,” Justin chuckled.

“But fine, we’ll stop punching,” Justin agreed. Sam brandished the electrical device again.

“ _No!_ ” Peter flinched, using all his remaining strength to pull frantically at the cables securing him. “Please!!”

“Want to tell us how to get the suit off?” Sam smiled cruelly at the begging boy before him.

“I… AHHHHHHH!” A blood-curdling scream filled the warehouse as Sam shoved the taser into the cut on his neck. Tony clenched his eyes shut. The sound wouldn’t leave his ears for weeks. Peter’s entire body shook when he finally pulled away. “Please.  _Wait_!” The shout came out as nothing but a hoarse whisper.

“Tell me how to get it off and I’ll stop. I  _promise_ ,” Sam whispered the word ‘promise’ into his ear, his hands caressing the boy’s shoulders with a false, soothing touch. Peter shivered under the touch, but nodded as much as he could.

“Okay. Just, stop..,” Peter forced his fingers to point to the right spot.

“No!” Tony protested. It would just make things worse for him. Peter shook his head weakly.

“‘M left shooter… ‘s a knife… It’s sharp,” Peter managed. Sam moved slowly to his left hand, eyeing the teenager for any signs of trickery. He felt the panels of the web-shooter until one popped open. The man wedged out a small knife from under the steel cable.

“This little thing is sharp enough?” Sam ask, skepticism showing in his features. Peter nodded- he used it to cut through webbing. Sam pressed his lips together with a slight frown, but stuck two fingers under his suit collar and pulled it out from the sweating body. The knife cut through it like paper. He hummed in approval. A couple minutes later, the whole upper part of his suit had been cut away, baring his torso to the stuffy air of the workshop.

“Hmm. You sure are ripped for a kid your age,” The smooth skin glistened with sweat, and his stomach rose and felt noticeably. The predator ran a gentle hand over his abs, causing Peter to shiver. A thumb brushed against the waistline of the suit, and Tony felt his chest clenching. Peter held his breath defiantly. “Shhh. That’s not my style, kid. But know if it was, you would be  _mine_. Got that?” The teenager clenched his eyes shut at the insinuation.

“Really a work of art. You should trace it so you can draw it later,” Justin joked, but Sam- hungry from their months of dormancy- took him seriously. He steadied their captive with a tight, bruising hand on his waist, and gripped the knife’s handle tightly. He dragged it up his navel, leaving a cut that oozed blood in its wake. The knife cut through the thick skin like butter. Peter hissed, but didn’t have the energy to fight it. Sam sliced his torso repeatedly, tracing each and every line. Within minutes, blood filled every indent on his abdomen, leaving a map of red cuts.

“You can comment on the artwork, you know,” Sam huffed, annoyed by the silence from his victim. He paused his ministrations to press the tip of his knife into his side. Peter tried to arc away from it, but Sam just tightened his grip and pushed in further. Spider-Man bit his lip, hoping to keep the sound in, but Sam, frustrated, pulled the knife out only to stab it back in violently. Peter yelped, squirming desperately in the chains.

“There we go, kiddo,” Samuel cooed. Peter’s chest heaved with labored breaths as the man finally pulled it out of him. A stinging sensation radiated from the lower left part of his stomach as Sam traced  _something_  into his body. Peter couldn’t see what it was, but Tony could. It was some sort of logo. Tony felt he might be sick when he realized the man was marking him- claiming him. Sam pulled away to admire his handiwork. He swiped away the blood to see the cut would be deep enough to last, but it quickly filled up again. Sam wiped his hands clean with a shred of the torn uniform. Confused and woozy from blood loss, Peter stopped his quivering lips with another joke attempt.

“If your name is Hammer… how come... you don’t have one?” He rasped. Tony stared at Peter in shock. The kid had to know better. And he did- but the jokes were the only escape from the pain that surrounded every fiber of his being. Peter choked on his own laugh and coughed, blood dripping down his chin. Justin raised his eyebrows and sent Tony what almost seemed like a look of respect for Peter. He strolled over to the teenager, whose eyes struggled to focus on his face.

“You got balls, kid. We do have one. Right, Sam?” Justin got an affirmative answer as Sam fetched it for him. Peter sagged as he understood his mistake and eyed the tool warily.

“I’m going to see what else we have,” Sam told Justin. “Why don’t you play with him a bit?”

“You know violence isn’t really my forte,” Justin protested. Sam shrugged.

“Try it. You might like it,” He briskly moved around the corner. The room was silent for a long moment before Hammer stepped hesitantly closer to Peter. One hand held the top of the hammer while the other searched for the best grip on the handle. Tony tried to stop it.

“Justin, you don’t want to hit him. You’re a better person than that,” Tony reasoned. Justin tilted his head to eye his billionaire rival, angry at the way the man tried to control  _everything_.

“Is that why you sent me to jail?” He snarled. Tony didn’t respond. Spitefully, he adjusted his grip on the hammer. He put a hand behind Peter’s neck and pulled him closer.

“Y’know kid, I always saw inmates using hammers to whack the shit out of each other, but they always use the blunt end. Ever wonder about the forked end?” Peter swallowed nervously as he grazed his cheek with the claw of the hammer. Their eyes locked. The conflict stirred in Hammer’s eyes, and desperately, Peter pleaded with puppy dog eyes. He eventually had to blink, and when the lids lifted again, Peter could see the resolve.

“I always did,” Justin mused. He released his grip on Peter’s neck.

“Hammer, no!” Tony yelled, understanding where this was going. Peter clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the head of the hammer to hit the classic knee location. Instead, a searing pain erupted in his right arm. Peter screamed as the claw impaled itself in his shoulder. Justin pulled down on it and then let go, letting the natural weight of the hammer drag the two prongs deeper into his skin. Peter violently lurched away from the direction of the pain and heard a loud pop. The kid wailed at the newfound pain radiating from his body.

“Ah, man. Did he just dislocate his own shoulder? That’s insane,” Sam commented. Peter’s eyes went wide at the sound of the returning voice, and he yanked at the restraints again. His arm screamed. Justin ripped the hammer out of his skin, allowing the blood to gush out of it.

“Look what I found,” Sam held up a whip. Peter looked away from it, as if that would make it go away.”

“Ohhh. That must be from Vanko. I couldn’t recover his electric whips so I thought those would make him feel more at home,” Justin explained. Sam raised his eyebrows and unwound it.

“Cool.”

“Justin,” Tony called again when he saw the pure terror in Peter’s eyes. “Come on! You’re killing him!”

“And it’s killing  _you_. That’s the point,” Justin laughed. “I’ve spent the last 8 years in prison plotting my revenge, Stark. This just makes it even better.” Tony wanted to scream. He wanted to yell a stream of insults that would make even sailors cringe, but he still held onto the words. He still couldn’t move, even as Peter’s eyes thankfully bore into him, and it broke Tony’s heart. How could the kid be thankful?! Sure, Tony was buying Peter time, but the only reason they were here was because of Tony. He was the one who brought Spider-Man into this. Sam moved around behind Peter, whose lip quivered fearfully.

 _Crack_. Peter cried out as the whip hit his bare back. On the next swing, Sam missed and hit the injured arm, drawing a moan from the boy. The whip cracks reminded him of lightning as they struck his back endlessly. Peter couldn’t keep the whimpers back anymore as they hit him.Tony tried to reboot his suit again and heard his tracker bing. Thank god.

“Admittedly, that was kinda fun,” Justin shrugged and grabbed the hammer again. This time he slammed the hero with the face of the hammer, cracking more ribs at the same instant the whip hit him again. Something inside him stung. Peter wheezed, finding it harder to breathe as the blows came from both sides now. His brain couldn’t keep up with the hits and the pain. Everything felt miles away, and he barely even noticed when something hit him in the head. The only difference was the ringing in his ears growing louder.

Tony winced as he saw Justin’s fist collide with Peter’s temple. The kid was fading- fast. He needed to get his son out. Like yesterday. Rhodes crashed into the warehouse, headed directly for Tony.

“Man, Tony! How many times do I have to save your-“ He stopped short when he saw his friend’s terrified eyes looking past him. Rhodes’ chest tightened when he saw the scene behind him. Both men were on the ground within the next second.

“Rhodes!” Tony yelled, voice cracking. “The device on my back. Get it off!” Rhodes rushed behind him and ripped it off. Tony rebooted the suit and sprinted across the small distance to Peter. His head lulled against his chest, blood leaking from his mouth.

“Help me cut him down,” Tony ordered. He broke the ankle cuffs before reaching for the steel cables and carefully lasering through them. Iron Man frantically batted away the remains as War Machine got his other side. Once free, Peter tried to stand, but he collapsed forward into Tony.

The man’s arms instinctively wrapped around the kid, but Peter whined when the metal touched his raw, bleeding back, and Rhodes grabbed him under the armpits, lowering him down carefully. Peter sprawled on the ground, breathing heavily.

“Talk to me, Pete,” Tony wanted to grab his good shoulder reassuringly, but he was afraid to inflict more pain. Pete’s eyes were darting around, but he eventually attempted to focus them on Tony.

“Hurts,” Peter gasped. It hurt to be on his back. It hurt to breathe. It hurt every time he moved his right arm. It hurt to even open his eyes to the bright white lights of the warehouse.

“I know, Peter. Just stay awake, okay? Help’s on the way,” Rhodes assured him. His blood threatened to choke him, so Rhodey gently pressed on his cheek to turn his head to the side. He looked to Tony, asking for an explanation. Or any words, really.

Peter reached out weakly with his left hand, and Tony grabbed it. Rhodey grabbed a clean-ish cloth covering some supplies nearby and pressed it against his shoulder. Peter cried out, trying to escape the pain.

“Pete. Shh. We need to stop the bleeding,” Tony shifted to stop the squirming child but stopped again, afraid to touch him lest he feel more pain. Peter clenched Tony’s hand tightly, struggling to breathe as time wore on. “I lost the mask. Can you scan him, James?”

“Yeah,” Rhodes took a deep breath as his suit reported back and popped up his mask to meet Stark’s eyes with a grim look. “He’s got broken bones, a pierced lung, and a whole lotta blood loss, Tones.” Tony felt anger surge through him, and twisted to glare at Justin Hammer lying on the floor. He moved automatically, without thinking. He was gonna wipe this bastard off the face of the earth.

“Tony!” Rhodes warned at the sound of the repulsor charging up. Tony shook his head, just waiting long enough to make sure the charge would obliterate him.

“To-Tony,” Peter reached out for him. “‘M cold…” The strained words struck his ears, pulling the billionaire back to the present. The blaster quickly powered down as Tony refocused on his kid, who’d gone ghostly pale against the stark white floor.

“I know, Pete. But you gotta stay with us, okay?” Tony cooed, squeezing his hand. Peter struggled to keep his eyes open. It was just so bright and cold, and he knew if he slept he’d feel better when he woke up.

“The air in your chest is suffocating you, so I need you to look at me and breathe deeply with me, okay Peter?” Rhodes explained. Peter let out shaking breaths, but focused on Rhodey. Well, he tried, but his vision shook dangerously.

“Am I… die?” Peter knew he wouldn’t finish the sentence if he tried to say every word. Tony shook his head quickly.

“No. No, you’re alright. Just keep breathing with us, okay?” Tony assured. He squeezed the boy’s hand in time with their guided breathing. When the backup finally arrived, Tony took over putting pressure on his shoulder as Rhodes ran off to get the two criminals into custody. A group of medics sprinted up to Tony and Peter.

“Broken ribs pierced his lung with a growing pneumothorax. Probably concussed. Bleeding from a lot of places but mainly his shoulder and hip. His blood type is A+, got it?” Tony spewed, making sure they all nodded in understanding. They laid a stretcher down next to Spider-Man, and on the count of three, shifted him onto it. Peter gasped in pain at the movement. Iron Man peeled himself away to let the professionals do their work, but Peter wasn’t having it.

“Tony!” Peter cried, trying to sit up much to the medics’ distress. They tried to push him back down, but wild eyes searched for the man he wanted. Tony returned in an instant, grabbing his good hand.

“I’m right here, kid. They’re not gonna hurt you, I promise,” Tony made himself a space next to the gurney when it popped up. He walked with them to the ambulance. The medics worked around him, knowing only the man’s presence kept him calm. A woman grabbed his good arm to stick the IV in, but Peter flinched and tried to lurch away. The increased pressure on his injured shoulder drew a whine from him.

“Let it happen, Pete. I’m right here. No one’s gonna do anything bad now. I’m here, bud,” Tony squeezed his hand rhythmically to distract Peter as she inserted the small needle. Peter could hear and feel him, but everything was getting farther away. The next breath came as more of a wheeze.

“Can’t.. breathe..,” Peter squirmed on the gurney, hoping for more manageable position. His chest hurt, and it felt like his lungs were shrinking. Why?! He didn’t want to die. He tried to sit up again, but a strong set of hands from a paramedic held him still, and Peter strained not to automatically fight him.

“Stay calm, Pete.” Tony lowered his voice to whisper to one of the paramedics next to him. “We got a problem.” Peter wheezed, trying to get even some semblance of oxygen. A mask set over his face to help, but he still struggled.

“I know. Hold him still. We need to get the air out of his chest cavity,” She warned. Tony nodded and pressed down on both sides of his chest. Meanwhile, the woman felt his ribs, finding an area that felt more swollen than the rest. It was hard to the touch. Peter whimpered at the contact, but it turned to a choked scream when a needle stabbed between his ribs. It deflated the air pocket suffocating him, but glazed eyes rolled back into his head.

“Peter!” Tony tried to stop him, but the kid was out. The paramedic quickly attached sensors to the black, blue, and red chest for vital readings. The billionaire’s heart beat out of his chest as he watched. He tightly gripped the railing of the gurney to steady his shaking hand. Peter couldn’t die. Not because of him.

“He’s stable. Just unconscious,” She reported. Tony let out a breath of relief and leaned over his son. When one of the medics couldn’t figure out the web-shooters, he reached over and detached the devices for him. Tony frowned at the bruised wrists from tugging at cables, and grabbed a roll of gauze to wrap them up. No one tried to stop him.

* * *

 

Peter woke up again as they neared the hospital. Damn enhancement, Tony figured. The gauze they’d used to wrap his torso had already turned red, and the bleeding from his shoulder had barely slowed, so Peter remained highly out of it, but his body still refused him the relief of unconsciousness. The paramedics looked at the kid in confusion until Tony explained why the drugs they’d starting administering hadn’t worked. His body physically wouldn’t let him get knocked out because it simply recovered too quickly for the anesthesia to make a difference. He’d have to go to sleep on his own.

There was nothing else the group could do to help him until they reached the hospital. They only had basic IV drips, so the blood wasn’t on hand, and they were afraid to touch his arm until it was determined whether or not the boy needed surgery. Tony prayed he didn’t, because he knew Peter would have to be awake for it unless they gave him insane amounts of anesthesia.

When they arrived, the doctors tried to separate Tony from his kid. However, Peter hollered and Tony focused on making what bribes he needed to stay with him. The doctors agreed, but said he wasn’t allowed in surgery if they did it. Peter whined when they pulled him away for proper x-rays, but Tony found a way to stay in his sight while they did them.

“Miraculously, he doesn’t need surgery, but we’ll have to push his arm back before we can stitch him up and give blood,” A doctor said quietly to his residential assistant. The younger man nodded and approached Peter with another nurse. Peter looked nervously at Tony who gave a nod. He clenched his fist behind his back to steady it.

“Grip my hand, sweetie. We’re going to fix your shoulder now,” The nurse grabbed his left hand and helped him sit up. Peter struggled to understand through his haze as he felt the man grabbing his right arm.

“What’re you..,” Peter mumbled, feeling trapped by the arms. He started to lurch away, but they held him still. The man pushed in. Peter screamed in pain as his arm went back into the socket. Tony closed his eyes and turned his head away.

* * *

 

Peter stayed awake the whole time they patched him up, too afraid to let himself fall asleep. His eyes primarily watched Tony as they worked on him, only sneaking the occasional glances at the doctors and nurses when they changed what they were doing or spoke with him. He hadn’t spoken since the x-rays. His throat hurt too much, and even if it didn’t, he didn’t know what to say.

It wasn't that Peter  _wanted_  to fight them, but his natural reflexes at the pain overrode the strength of an average person. The pain medications wouldn’t work at normal doses, and Banner wasn’t responding, so the medical team ended up calling in a strong nurse to hold his arm down. It took a while, but the doctor finally managed to disinfect and close the stab wounds on his shoulder and hip.

Tony hadn’t missed the look of judgment one of the nurses gave him upon seeing the boy’s torso. Nearly the entirety of it shone black and blue, and the areas that weren’t bruised oozed blood. Meanwhile, his back swelled with lash marks from the whip and more hits with the crowbar. They rubbed lotion that stung horribly on his back before wrapping him up again and tentatively laying him down. It hurt to lay back at first, but the lotion transitioned to a cool, soothing presence that reduced it to a dull soreness within time.

“Just one more thing, kiddo,” Dr.Winn grabbed a hollow needle attached to a syringe. Peter eyed it warily, and when the man reached for him, Peter surprised him by grabbing his wrist.

“Why?” He asked hoarsely. The doctor’s face softened.

“The bone fragment will dissolve and your lung will heal, but until it closes up, we need to make sure air isn’t trapped in your body,” He laid a steadying hand on his stomach, careful not to disturb the bandages. Peter nodded slowly and released the wrist he’d held captive. Tony grabbed Peter’s good hand in preparation. Dr.Winn sent the teenager an apologetic look and slowly pressed the needle into his chest. It took all of Peter’s strength not to flinch, and Tony worried he might break his hand from how hard he clenched it.

“Sorry,” Dr.Winn knew it stung terribly without numbing, but there was nothing he could do.

“We’re gonna get you on painkillers as soon as we can, I promise,” Tony assured.

“He might need a facial surgeon to work on his face tomorrow, but not until we have the right drugs for him, and we’ll have to run more concussion tests later, but he’s okay for now,” Dr.Winn reported after securing an oxygen mask over Peter‘s mouth and nose. Tony thanked him and shook his hand. Finally, they were alone in the room.

“Tony-“ Peter rasped. His voice had gone from all the screaming and yelling.

“Not right now, Pete,” Tony sat back down next to him.

“Get some sleep, okay?”

“‘M scared.”

“Of what? I’m right here,” Tony grabbed his hand.

“Won’t wake back up,” Peter mumbled.  _Oh_.

“You’ll wake back up, I promise,” Tony gave his fingers a small squeeze, carefully avoiding the pulse monitor. “And I’ll be right here, okay?” With his other hand, he reached out and stroked Peter’s hair. The curls moved under his fingers with a soft nod, and Peter hesitantly closed his eyes.


End file.
